


Demon's Dominance

by andrhars



Series: Incompetent Incubus [2]
Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Coffee Shop, Incubus!Sheik, M/M, Praise Kink, Sheik takes charge (or tries to), demon's gotta make money somehow, more shameless smut and silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-07 17:54:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20821421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andrhars/pseuds/andrhars
Summary: Sheik was taken off-guard the first time he met the blonde-haired, blue-eyed man who took him to hell and back in the club restroom. This time, he intends to be the one in charge and show the human just what it means to sleep with an incubus!Kafei just wants his cousin to stay safe.





	Demon's Dominance

Sheik glared at the spot on the café counter, a wet cloth that stank of strong detergent and cleaner in hand. You're going the fuck down, fucker, he thought, bringing the cloth down on the wooden surface and scrubbing fiercely for half a minute.

This solution was strong enough to strip off car parts, there was no way in hell the stain (ostensibly one made of coffee, though Sheik refused to acknowledge what they sold as such) could survive it. He gave the counter one last fierce rub and lifted the cloth off it, satisfied to see that the stain was, once and for all, go—

"What the fuck are you even made of you piece of shit stain?!" he shrieked at the dark brown, drop-shaped splotch marring the counter's finish. "Why won't you come off?!" He slammed the cloth onto the stain and leaned his entire weight on it, like that would have any effect.

Oh, what he wouldn't give to be one of those fire demons, like that guy...whathisface...Sur-something...

Surtur!

Yes, that was it.

Big, giant grumpy bastard.

Sheik would bet that fucker never had to worry about stains like this. He'd just burn them away, turn them into ash. Not like Sheik, whose magical abilities extended to seduction and sex, and only that. He hadn't tried, but he somehow doubted he'd be able to seduce the stain off the counter.

Though at this rate he was probably going to try.

"Still no luck, huh?"

Sheik turned and glared at Kafei as the purple-haired idiot emerged from the small storage room, carrying a big bag of coffee beans that he began to feed into the industrial-sized grinder sitting on top of the counter.

"What the hell did you even spill to make this?" Sheik asked, hurling the cloth at Kafei's head, which he deftly dodged. "It's like it's seeped through the finish and into the _wood_!"

"It's just coffee," Kafei said, shrugging. He finished filling the grinder and tossed the empty bag into the trash. "How bad can it be?"

"No, no," Sheik said, shaking his head fiercely. "What you make cannot in any way be called _coffee_. It is an unholy sludge that even the big guy downstairs would hesitate to drink on account of how evil it is! It's like motor oil, only infused with your special brand of stupid that violates every law of physics, magical or otherwise!"

Kafei scoffed. "You say that, but it's what keeps the customers coming back."

Sheik looked pointedly around at the small, dark, cramped space of the café, which was entirely devoid of customers.

"_What_ customers?" he hissed.

His fellow incubus didn't deign to answer, instead starting up the grinder, filling the room with noise.

"So," Kafei said loudly over the sound of poor, innocent beans being prepared for his hellish brand of alchemy, "you're awfully grumpy today. Didn't get any this weekend?"

"I did," Sheik sniffed, fetching the cloth from where it had landed and throwing it in the trash. There was no salvaging that after the solution Sheik had dunked it in. The fibres would start burning away any second. "No thanks to your book!"

Kafei blinked, taking a moment to remember what he was talking about. "Wait, you thought that...that it was..." he laughed. "Oh my god, I gave you that as a joke!" He leaned against the counter, barely able to keep his balance. "Tell me you didn't actually try one of the lines!"

Sheik's face grew red and hot, and he crossed his arms with a huff.

"How was I supposed to know?! You told me it'd help me get better at seducing humans!"

"By _not_ following the advice in it!" Kafei said, howling. "You are so fucking precious!"

Sheik contemplated trying to shove Kafei's head into the coffee grinder, but realised it'd be pointless. The other incubus was too thick-headed for that. Maybe his hand, though...

"Which one did you use?" Kafei asked. "Come on, please tell me, and how did the guy react? Come on, tell me, tell me, tell me!"

"I'm not telling you shit, you traitor," Sheik growled, taking a look at the paltry selection of pastries in their glass display, straight out of the freezer. Not a single one had been purchased all day. Just like any other day. More for him to take home.

Fucking _score_.

The noise of the grinder finally died down, and Kafei began to fill the grounds into ready-to-pour packets, somehow able to fill them with the exact right measure just by looking. It was almost impressive, if it weren't for the crimes he'd commit against the poor beans later.

Sheik didn't even like coffee, but he still felt bad for the innocent humans who wandered into the shop, hoping for a shot of caffeine, and instead walked away with a cup of liquid chaos. They did have some repeat customers, but Sheik was almost a hundred percent certain they kept coming as a form of self-flagellation rather than enjoyment. Then again, that was how the bosses in the back rooms liked it. Their little hole in the wall wasn't _really _meant to be a successful café, after all.

Not that they had told Sheik what they were _actually_ up to back there, but he strongly suspected there was some sort of organised crime going on. Gambling, probably, based on the clientele who came in through the back entrance. 

Not that Sheik cared. Human crimes were so...petty. Small-time. He just needed somewhere he could put in minimal effort and get paid, so he could maintain his shitty apartment and non-shitty hobby.

He was actually grateful to Kafei for getting him the job. Not so much for the idiocy he had to suffer day in and day out, though.

"Okay, I'm sorry," Kafei said with a grin that told Sheik otherwise. "But you did get laid, right? Who by? Don't skimp on the details, please."

Sheik sighed, his stomach giving a little excited jump at the thought of the blonde man he'd run into and seduced at the club that weekend. Or that was how he chose to look at the events that had transpired. It annoyed him. Mostly because the situation had been completely reversed. He'd been pent-up, and off-guard, and that had allowed the man to slip by his defences and...well. The fact that it had been the best sex Sheik'd had since coming to the human world, and would probably keep him full and satisfied for the whole week, only made it worse.

It wasn't how it was supposed to go. Sheik was the incubus, he was the one who was supposed to be in control, not the human he was fucking!

(He stomped down the traitorous voice in the back of his head that kept saying he'd enjoyed being toyed with and used to such a degree, because he most definitely had _not_ fucking enjoyed it!)

He relayed the story to Kafei, who looked more and more amused with every detail that was revealed.

"Only you, cousin, only you," he said, clapping a little at the end of the story. "At least you got fed, right?"

"Shut up," Sheik said, slamming his forehead against the counter, a little too close to the mystery stain for comfort. It had to be some sort of reality-warping liquid, surely. "It's embarrassing enough that I only managed to get the prude, but seduced? By a fucking human? I blame you and your stupid book!" He pushed off and turned to the blender, deciding he was going to go against company rules and make himself a smoothie. 

"So," Kafei said, smoothly sidling up to Sheik's side, waggling his eyebrows. "What size are we talking?"

"I will shove your hand into the blender," Sheik warned him.

It'd hurt like hell, but it's not like it'd do any permanent damage to Kafei.

Cleaning out the blender would be a bitch, though, and Sheik wanted to leave on time today. There was a new release at the hobby store and there was no way in hell fucking Karen was going to get the pick of the litter before him.

Never again.

Never fucking again.

He'd wrap her in a roll of foam and leave her to suffocate if she ever tried to muscle in on his territory again.

"Ooh, possessive already," Kafei said with a chuckle. "Do I need to prepare to have _The Talk_ with you? You know feeding on the same human more than once is a bad idea. Getting attached—"

"Is a risk, yes, I fucking know," Sheik interrupted, slamming the blender lid shut and starting it up, fantasising that the bits of fruit and vegetables being cut up into tiny little pieces were bits of Kafei instead. "And _no_, I don't intend on feeding on him again. I'm not stupid."

"Studies say otherwise," Kafei said, cutting up some more fruit with a deftness one would not associate with someone so stupid, evidently intending on making himself a smoothie as well. "But I'm glad to hear it. Humans are a danger to both themselves and to us, and while we need them to feed, that is _all_ they should be to us. Food."

It was a lecture he'd heard a million times both before and after arriving in the human world, and Sheik was sick of it. As if he couldn't look after himself. Besides, humans weren't nearly as dangerous as Kafei liked to make them out to be. Sure, they had some truly diabolical ways of inflicting evil on each other, but in the end they were just animals, controlled by their base urges and instincts.

Get them horny, and they were so easy to manipulate.

And that was exactly what he intended to do with the blonde man if Sheik ever saw him again. He almost _hoped_ they'd run into each other again. _Hoped_ that he'd show up at the club that Sheik had claimed as his hunting ground again, just so Sheik could show him how this food chain was _supposed_ to work.

He turned the blender off and poured the contents into a glass and, after a moment's hesitation, filled one up for Kafei as well. Bastard as he was, he was still Sheik's closest friend and nemesis.

Besides, he'd put lots of pear slices into the smoothie, and Kafei hated those.

Kafei, aware of its contents, gave the glass and Sheik a dubious stare before steeling himself and drinking the whole thing down in one gulp, as if trying to make a point. His face was placid and calm...for about five seconds, at which point he turned around and vomited into the waste basket.

A poor, unsuspecting human opened the door to the café and was greeted by the sight of Kafei chasing a cackling Sheik around the locale with a melon baller, shouting "Come here and I'll scoop out your eyes!"

She wisely turned around and headed for the GrindHouse a block down. 

* * *

They'd made such a mess out of the café at the end that Sheik had to leave a little later because of the clean-up.

He still managed to intercept Karen at the hobby store, though not without a vicious fight.

Bitch had sharp acrylics.

He still won, in the end, and it was with the smuggest smile aimed in her direction that he made his purchase, filled two plastic bags and went home, humming happily.

* * *

Saturday night.

The Night of the Hunt.

The night when humans, desperate in their loneliness, put on what they considered to be their best and went out on the town, trawling the streets, bars, and clubs for someone who was their equal in desperation with whom to share a bed.

The night when incubi and succubi, hungry to the point of starvation, had their veritable pick of the litter and could feed on just about whomever they liked.

A bit of a parasitic relationship, perhaps, but Sheik considered it a fair trade. Both parties walked away happy at the end, after all.

Sheik was back in the club, prowling the locale, looking for potential prey. It was a difference experience, without the gnawing hunger that felt like nails scratching at his insides. He was still full, still satisfied, and unlike every other Saturday, the club's patrons no longer seemed like a smorgasbord of potential sin and carnality.

Or, rather, he wasn't so desperately hungry that any old human would do. He wanted someone special, someone who had a certain quality, someone who wouldn't leave him disappointed, unfulfilled and pent up in the restrooms.

Oh, who the fuck was he kidding? He was looking for the blonde man. There was just no way in hell Sheik was going to let what happened last week stand without a fight. They were on equal grounds now, with Sheik at his full strength and not an ounce of desperation in him.

He'd take the bastard on the greatest fucking journey of his miserable life if he dared show his stupid face on Sheik's turf again.

No sign of him so far, though.

And the music was really fucking annoying tonight. The bass, which usually struck him with bone-shaking fury, was barely there. The song itself was just shitty, high-pitched noises best left on the cutting floor of weird, 60s prog and did not in any way belong in a damned club!

It was with a sigh (but definitely not a disappointed one) that Sheik headed for the bar, ordering a stupidly fancy cocktail made with umeshu. It was sweet and delicious, and not at all girly. Pink was the manliest fucking colour in existence, and he'd cut anyone who disagreed.

"Haven't seen the other blondie tonight," the bartender said jokingly, having noticed Sheik's intense scouting. "Think you'll be disappointed."

"Night's still young," Sheik muttered, downing his cocktail and ordering another. "Fucker's just biding his time, I bet."

"Oof, got a grudge or something?" the bartender asked, finishing the drink with a flourish and a roguish swipe of his hand through the rainbow-coloured mohawk on his head. "You seemed to get along so well. Both seemed very satisfied, coming out of the bathroom."

"Do you always perv on your customers?" Sheik asked, glaring at him.

"Only the ones I really like," the bartender said with a wink, leaning close across the counter. "I get off at midnight. If blondie doesn't show up—"

"And why wouldn't he?" Sheik asked. "You think I scared him off or something?"

"Well, no, but—" 

"Because I can assure you that he enjoyed the _hell_ out of himself, and if anything scared him it was just how fucking _good_ it was!" he snarled, taking a huge sip of his cocktail. "Fucking coward," he muttered.

"Well, that's his loss," the bartender said, giving Sheik a smile. "I know I wouldn't let a cutie like you go, not even for a minute. So, about midnight—"

"I bet he's standing outside, right now," Sheik interrupted. "Just trying to summon the courage to step inside, knowing I'll be here and needs to bring his fucking A-game to even have a chance!"

"I'm sure, but in case he doesn't—" 

Sheik downed his drink angrily, the mere thought of the blonde man not showing up pissing him off a whole lot more than it should. "Gimme another sakura!"

The bartender sighed, still smiling, and made him another. "What a beautiful idiot," he said quietly.

Sheik lost track of time after that. Alcohol affected demons differently, and he had been cursed with a low tolerance. Three drinks in and he knew he shouldn't have any more; he was on the verge.

That didn't stop him from leaning across the bar, grabbing the bartender by the front of his shirt and demanding a fourth drink. Rainbow bartender looked like he was about to argue, but then he froze, looking at something behind Sheik.

Sheik suddenly felt the weight of something heavy across his back and something firm against his butt, and a hot breath blowing into his ear.

"Well, well, look at you, being a good boy," a familiar voice whispered sinfully, sending involuntary shivers down Sheik's spine. How the hell could someone be so seductive with just their voice alone?! "Presenting yourself all eagerly for me."

It only fuelled Sheik's annoyance, though, and he growled as he turned himself around in the blonde man's embrace, trapped against the bar between his arms. His strong, muscular arms...wait, stop!

"Took your sweet time, didn't you?" he said, glaring upwards, the man's look of immense amusement only pissing him off further. "Where the fuck have you been?"

"I wasn't aware we had an agreement," the man said, leaning forward until their noses almost touched. "I'm pretty sure I'd have cleared my schedule completely if I knew my good boy was waiting for me."

"Who the fuck said I was?" Sheik snarled, trying to fight the heat that had blossomed in the pit of his stomach the moment he'd heard that voice, that had increased in intensity when his eyes met those sapphire blues. "And I'm not your _good boy_, bastard!"

"Hm?" the man said, still smiling. "Are you sure?" he asked, trailing a hand between them, exploring Sheik's jean-clad thigh before arriving where his legs met, cupping Sheik's rapidly hardening length. "Because this says otherwise."

Gods, why did it feel so fucking good? It was just a touch, and a light one at that, but combined with the voice, the eyes, and the way being called a good boy sent little sparks of lightning directly to his cock, Sheik was ready to come in his pants right then and there.

And what kind of shitty, incompetent incubus would he be if he allowed that?!

Fighting against every instinct that told him to let the human do as he pleased with him, use him for his every desire and fill Sheik with his essence, Sheik put a hand on the man's chest and pushed him away (god, how the hell did he get pecs like those?!).

There was a little resistance, but the man actually relented, stepping back and raising an eyebrow.

"You caught me off-guard," Sheik said, glaring up at him. "Now and that time. I'm not some fucking virgin for you to toy around with." Even now his body felt like it was on fire, every nerve standing at attention and craving stimulus.

"Who said that's what I think you are?" the man replied, still standing in Sheik's space, filling his nostrils with his scent. Spicy, yet earthy. It was like a cologne, but one that didn't seem heavy and cloying. It was taking everything Sheik had not to drop to his knees right then and there, wanting to please this fucking monster of a human, not even caring that they'd have an audience.

"Calling me a g-good boy," Sheik said, stuttering as a wave of desire washed over him at the thought of it. Even the feel of his own clothes rubbing against his skin had him craving more, more friction, more stimulus. He wanted the man to put his hand back on Sheik's crotch, to grind against him until he came keening. "I'm not!"

The man chuckled deeply, crowding Sheik against the bar. "Aren't you, though?" he asked, putting his hands on Sheik's hips. "Aren't you my good boy? All eager to show me what you can do? Eager for _reward_?"

Their lips were inches apart, but the fucker was holding back, waiting for Sheik to take the plunge, to close the distance. Hell no. Sheik refused to fall into this abyss again, to let the man take control, even if every little part of him was screaming, begging for him to do so.

Take me, fuck me, use me, fill me, make me yours and no one else's.

It was hard to think, and if he were anyone else, Sheik might have let his desires take over right then and there.

But he wasn't anyone else. 

He was Sheik, the strongest, most powerful incubus there ever was...and he would make this man dearly regret thinking he was ever in charge.

"Y-You're not in charge here," he said, forcing himself to stare at the man's nose instead of his eyes, wary of adding anything else to the heady cocktail that was already overwhelming his senses. "I am."

"Hm, interesting," the man said, voice rumbling in a purr. "And what would you like to do, then?" He grabbed Sheik's buttocks in a possessive, tight grip.

"There," Sheik said in a gasp, pointing towards the restrooms. "I'll show you the time of your fucking life." 

"Is that so?" the man asked, stepping back. "I'm intrigued..."

"Come on, then," Sheik said, almost gasping with relief at being out of the man's immediate presence. The world almost didn't feel real, like there was a sheet of invisible glass between him and the rest of it, every thought of his revolving around what he and this man could be doing, and the ache in his pants. He grabbed the man by the wrist in a mirror of their situation last week and began to tug him towards the door in the distance. He was halted in his tracks, however.

The man didn't move, giving first Sheik, then the club, and finally the restroom doors a critical look, a smirk slowly coming to his face.

"What, ch-chickening out, eh?" Sheik asked, trying to mask his growing desperation with bravado. If the man changed his mind, suddenly didn't want anything to do with Sheik after all this, he might just scream out of anger and frustration. "Worried how you'll come out?" 

"No," the man said, his voice barely audible over the loud, annoying music. He pulled his arm back, tugging Sheik back to him, immediately wrapping an arm around Sheik's shoulders and bringing him close. "I'm just wondering if I'd rather not do this somewhere more...comfortable."

Oh, that was a danger signal if Sheik ever heard one. This was how serial killers worked. His dick still insisted on doing the thinking, though, signalling to him that it was still very much up for it, claiming that Sheik was a fucking demon and that this human had no chance against him if he decided to use his magic. 

Magic...

No, he didn't want to use it. He was an incubus, and magic was a crutch. He'd seduce this bastard all on his own!

"Oh, like your place, right?" Sheik asked, putting on a smug grin of his own that was definitely not twitchy and shaking with held-back desire. "No chance, fucker. We're doing this on neutral ground."

The man ran his fingers through Sheik's hair, tugging a little. More electricity coursed through him with every bite of sharp pain.

"I was thinking more the hotel across the street," he said, grinning. "Neutral enough for you?"

Sheik grinned back. More than neutral enough. Enough privacy to really let himself go, to truly show this man where he belonged on the food chain.

"Perfect."

* * *

Or so he thought, until he found himself naked and face-down on a hotel mattress, biting the pillow to keep himself from crying out with pleasure as the man pounded into him, growling into his ear about what a good boy Sheik was being.

"So good, taking all of me," he growled, licking the shell of Sheik's ear before biting his shoulder hard and ripping the pillow away. "Come on, let me hear how much you're enjoying yourself!"

"Ah, hah, hah!" Sheik's face was blazing hot with desire or embarrassment—probably both—as he could do little but obey, his need to be a good boy overpowering every other instinct, to howl with pleasure when the man's cock rammed into him, rubbing against that special spot with every thrust.

The man paused for a moment and then drove into Sheik with all of his strength and weight, hitting so deep Sheik was certain they'd briefly merged into a single being, his voice giving off a strangled, high-pitched whine, his inner walls burning with the sensation of being filled so completely.

The man's sweaty chest was a weight on his back as he ceased his brutal fucking for a moment, pushing a hand beneath Sheik's pelvis and finding his neglected length, raw and sensitive from rubbing against the sheets.

"In charge, eh?" the man asked, panting, slowly jerking Sheik off. The sudden stimulus, combined with the sensation of the man still being fully sheathed within him, nearly made Sheik come right away, but he tried to hold back. "You've an interesting definition of that."

"F-Fuck you," Sheik hissed, trapped under him. "I'm only—hah!—letting y-you _think_ you're—ah!—w-winning!" His hips wanted to buck into the man's grip so badly, but he refused to do so. He couldn't. Wouldn't.

"Didn't realise this was a game," the man said, laughing. "But if so...then I'm definitely winning." He licked at the spot he'd bitten Sheik, the feeling of his hot, rough tongue against the sensitive skin adding yet another thing Sheik had to fight against. He hadn't drawn blood this time, which was a blessing because Sheik wasn't sure he could handle that right now. "So," he said, "are you my good boy?"

"N-No," Sheik forced out through gritted teeth.

Yes, his mind told him. You are.

No, I'm not, fuck you!

"Are you sure?" the man asked, easing his weight off Sheik's back and, in a show of strength, hauled Sheik up so they were both on their knees on the mattress, Sheik's back to his chest, his hand on Sheik's throat and forcing their eyes to meet. "Are you _sure_ you're not my good boy? A good boy who deserves all the praise and rewards I can give?" He thrusted shallowly into Sheik, drawing a strangled moan from him.

Their gazes were locked, and all Sheik had to do was let a little bit of his magic seep into this, to give him the edge, to let him take control.

No, he didn't it. Didn't need magic.

All he needed was the element of surprise. And he knew how to take it. The man enjoyed toying with him, enjoyed seeing Sheik's defences crumble. Well, he'd gladly oblige him, then.

He closed the distance between their mouths, turning it into a hot, messy kiss, slipping his tongue into the man's mouth the moment his lips parted, drawing him into a duel. The man hummed with amusement and surprise, his grip on Sheik's throat easing just a little...

...enough for Sheik to slip forward, out of his reach and buck backwards, surprising the bastard and causing him to lose his balance enough to fall back on the mattress, a look of complete surprise on his face. Sheik grinned in triumph, the satisfaction of seeing the man so utterly shocked almost enough for him.

Almost.  
  
It wasn't.

He had a score to settle, and this was his moment.

Before the man could recover, Sheik was on him in an instant, climbing on top and using his weight on his pelvis to keep the man from moving.

"My turn," he growled, lining himself up and sinking onto the man's cock, relishing in the burn of being stretched once more, but this time being in control. The man tried to reach up, to push him off, but Sheik was faster, grabbing his wrists and letting his bodyweight do the rest, pinning the man's hands against the mattress. "Ah, ah, no touchy," he said teasingly, rolling his hips _just so_, in the way only an incubus could.

"Wha—ah," it was the man's turn to moan now, his eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head as Sheik put his years of experience to use, shaking his hips and lifting himself up and down on the man's lap.

The room was filled with the sounds of pant, moans, and grunts. The wet sound of sweaty skin sliding against skin, the sinful slaps of Sheik's cheeks hitting the man's thighs. Their smells intermingled, musk, sweat, and sex. At some point the man's hands broke free, but they didn't try to shove him off. Instead they gripped Sheik's hips and joined in, helping him increase the pace, the force of the penetration.

Sheik's head was in a haze of desire and lust and power, staring down at the man's enraptured face, his eyes dark and cloudy with the same, their hands intertwining.

It couldn't last forever, and Sheik felt the man growing thicker and harder inside him, his panting and moaning growing more and more desperate. He felt himself approaching the edge too, and there was no stopping it this time, having come too close too many times. It was happening now, whether or not they wanted it to.

"Ah—hah—gonna—ah—-come," the man stuttered.

"S-Same," Sheik moaned in reply. "C-Come on, c-come in me! Come!"

And the man did, his bucking nearly toppling Sheik off. Sheik felt the warm, wetness of the man coating his insides, the energy immediately leeching into his system, and he couldn't stop himself, coming with a cry of sheer joy, coating the man's stomach and chest with his seed as his strength failed him, causing him to fall forward, smearing his come between their chests.

The man's mouth was close, and open and moaning, and Sheik had to have it, claiming it with his own, their tongues battling for dominance as they rode out their mutual climaxes.

They remained like that for a long, blissful moment, the man still buried inside Sheik as they continued to kiss.

As before, Sheik felt like he was about to pass out, the man's energy nearly overwhelming him. He could probably last weeks off one orgasm from him alone. But he didn't want just one...he wanted...more..

"Hm," the man said as their lips separated with a wet pop, their faces smeared with each other's saliva. "That was...amazing," he said, reaching up to run his hand through Sheik's sweaty hair. "Such a good boy."

The words still sent a pleasurable thrill through Sheik's being, but this time he didn't feel so annoyed. He'd shown the asshole just what he was capable of.

"And this good boy just showed you what he could do," he said cheekily, moving against the man, their chests sliding against each other, lubricated by Sheik's essence. "Showed you who's in charge, huh?"

"Mhm," the man said, kissing him. "I might just keep you, I think.

"I'm not your little bitch," Sheik said, nipping at his lips warningly. "I'm not something to be kept."

"What a pity," the man said, grinning, and Sheik felt him growing hard again inside. "Guess I'll just have to enjoy you while I can, then. Ready for round two?"

Sheik could do little but grin back.

This was going to be a long, wonderful night.

* * *

Consciousness returning to Sheik was a long and drawn-out process. His mind was still flooded with endorphins and all those other lovely things humans kept insisting were the only reason a person felt good, and the pleasurable soreness that told him he'd had a great fuck the night before.

There was a light breeze in his room, and the brightness against his closed eyes told him the sun was shining brightly outside. His sheets were soft and smelled of sex and sin, and he was stretched out entirely across the king-size mattress...

...wait, king-size?

Sheik's mind cleared a little, and he opened his eyes and was greeted by a ceiling that was most definitely not his. There weren't nearly enough cracks or water spots to be it. The room wasn't his either, appearing to be a fairly standard but very well-kept hotel room of sorts.

"Where the fuck am I?" he muttered, his throat sore, like he'd been screaming and moaning all night...which he had been...

The memories came rushing back as one, and he found himself grinning widely. He'd shown that bastard!

"Now who's the good boy?" he said to himself, slowly sitting up in the bed and taking a moment to enjoy the various little aches that told him the sex had been fucking fantastic, and that was without the sheer invigoration of the man's energy he'd spent the whole damned night absorbing.

He stretched, taking a mental note of where all his clothes ended up. All over the place, as it turned out. A shoe here, a sock there, his shirt had somehow ended up on the ceiling fan. No sign of the guy's clothes, though. Not a big surprise. He probably had shit to do.

Honestly, Sheik was surprised to have woken up in the hotel room in the first place, that they hadn't left as soon as they were done. That was how it usually worked. In and out, quickly and dirty.

He hadn't expected the man to pull Sheik into his arms and mumble sleepily against his neck, "Stay. Go to sleep."

Incubi didn't do that. It wasn't in their nature, nor in Sheik's. But even if he hadn't felt the immense need to sleep and absorb the meal the man had just fed him, he still doubted he'd have been able to escape his hold. So, he'd let himself be held, feeling conflicted about it all the while, and slowly nodded off to sleep.

Just as well that the man wasn't there when he woke up. Sheik might have had a panic attack in that case.

What time was it, even? He looked for his phone, and found it on the nightstand, on top of a note.

**11:31 AM**

He'd slept way in. 

There were a few texts from Kafei, asking him if he'd gotten lucky, because he sure had. Sheik didn't bother opening them just yet, just reading the previews. Then he turned his attention to the note.

Bastard's handwriting was fucking immaculate, just like everything else about him, apparently.

* * *

** _Hey_ **

** _Sorry, had to run. Work emergency. Room's paid for till 3, so feel free to enjoy it till then._ **

** _I had a great time last night, and I hope we can do it again sometime._ **

** _I'll be at the club next week, same time._ **

** _Wanna be my good boy again? ;)_ **

** _PS: My name is Link, by the way_ **

* * *

At least Sheik had a name to the bastard's stupid, handsome face now.

Link.

It suited him. Typical.

Sheik smirked and headed for the bathroom, intending to take a shower, get dressed, and head home. He still had a bunch of blind boxes to open.

He'd never admit that he folded up the note and put it in his wallet.

Ever.


End file.
